


Hidden Wounds

by laPamplemousse



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Caretaking, Chronic Pain, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Night Terrors, Oral Sex, So much angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laPamplemousse/pseuds/laPamplemousse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13010.html?thread=57353426#t57353426">this DA KinkMeme prompt:</a><br/>"Fenris sometimes wakes up in screaming, terrible pain. He tries to hide it from Hawke for a long time because it seems like the kind of thing that would put a damper on their relationship. Don't care what kind of Hawke so long as he/she/they eventually find out, try to help, and are kind and loving about it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Angsty angsty angst with a little bit of eventual smut and tooth-rotting fluff. This was completely self-indulgent. I've been having too many FenHawke feels lately. Trying a slightly different style--wanted to limit dialogue as much as possible.

Fenris had never told anyone the extent of the pain his lyrium brands caused him. During the day it was manageable, his companions assumed that his slightly hunched posture and “broody” disposition were just side effects from his long years in slavery. At night it was worse. With no movement to occupy his body, the pain became much more noticeable. In sleep, with nothing to hold it back, the pain often consumed him through nightmares, and he would wake up screaming in agony. Whether it was the nightmares causing the pain or the pain causing his nightmares, the torture he felt mirrored that of the day he’d received his brands.

In the beginning it had been easier to avoid spending the night with Hawke. After their first time together he shied away, the memories their lovemaking had stirred in him too overwhelming to risk repeating. She was patient and understanding, giving him time and space when he needed it, and being there for him when he needed _her_. She was never surprised when he showed up at her manor in the middle of the night, pressing desperate kisses to her lips before she even had a chance to say “hello.” She never questioned him when he pulled away, unable to go any further, whispering apologies as he bolted for the door.

When Fenris was finally ready to commit to her, to a physical relationship, it was harder. He could see the hurt in her eyes every time he left her bed, saying it was difficult for him to sleep with another person. She would smile and take his hand in hers, replying that she understood, but he could hear the crack in her voice as her sadness threatened to spill out. He would close her door gently, then slide down, sitting with his back against the wood, listening until he heard her breathing deepen with sleep. 

One night as he sat against her door he heard not the deep breathing of sleep, but anguished sobs, coming from her bedroom. Overcome with guilt, he rushed back into the room, throwing off his gauntlets and armor before pulling Hawke into his arms and wiping the tears from her face. She stared up at him, eyes wide and reddened, and he had to fight the urge to tell her the truth. Instead he leaned back against the pillows and pulled her to his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her as he stroked her hair. She sniffled quietly for a few minutes before her body became limp and heavy with sleep, and Fenris was tempted to do the same. She was so warm and soft against him; it was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

The sunlight pouring in through the window roused Fenris from sleep. He quickly discovered he was not in his mansion, and he began to panic when he felt the gentle weight of Hawke’s body on top of his own. He remembered the previous night, her tears, and his regret. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized he had not awoken during the night, that Hawke was still blissfully unaware of his condition. She had enough to worry about after everything with her family, the situation between the mages and Templars, and all of the other things she’d had to deal with in the short time since she came to Kirkwall. He didn’t want to add to her list of concerns.

Hawke began to stir in his arms, letting out a little yawn as she opened her eyes. The smile she gave him caused his heart to ache. She leaned up to kiss him and he felt his resolve wane, wanting nothing more than to tell her everything, to explain why he had left her alone all these nights. But he couldn’t. Even when she broke their kiss to look into his eyes, when she asked him if he would stay with her more often and he heard himself say “yes” because that’s what he truly wanted, he still couldn’t tell her. He would keep his pain a secret, no matter how difficult, to spare her from finding out just how broken he was.

Fenris kept his word to Hawke, for her sake as well as his own. He spent most nights at her manor, though he never let himself spend the night in her bed. Luckily for him, she was a heavy sleeper. After Hawke drifted off to sleep, he would sneak down to the library and sleep on the sofa. In the mornings he would either climb back into bed or pretend that he had woken up early. If she woke up in the night and asked him about it the next day, he would say he wasn’t able to sleep so he had gone downstairs to practice reading. When he awoke in the middle of the night screaming in agony, Hawke’s mabari was always there, climbing onto the sofa with him and licking his face. If Orana or Bodahn heard his cries from their rooms downstairs, they never said a word, and for that he was grateful.

He fell asleep a few times with Hawke in his arms, just like that first night, but he somehow managed to wake himself up before the worst of the pain set in. In the morning she’d look at him with concern in her eyes and tell him he had been whimpering in his sleep. He would tell her he’d had a nightmare, and she would hug him close and kiss his forehead. Sometimes he’d stay in bed with her all night, not sleeping, just holding her close as he watched her breathe. Asleep on his chest, she looked so perfect, so peaceful and comfortable and _right_. He would gaze at her enchanting face, so much younger in sleep, as he stroked the impossibly soft skin of her cheek, her arm, her waist.

She was always so guarded, all daggers and sarcasm and cutting wit. She had let Fenris see beyond that, been vulnerable with him. She cried in his arms after her mother died and she told him it was all her fault, everything. Carver dying, Bethany being forced into the Grey Wardens, her mother being murdered. Hawke held onto the guilt for all of these things, and with him she let it all out. She was too good for him, too pure. Instead of being bitter at the difficult hand that life had dealt her, she strove to make things better, to _be_ better. If only she realized how much good she had done, how many things she had changed for the better, how she had changed _him_ for the better. When he watched her sleep, her head against his chest, he knew that he could never be what she deserved; but in those moments he imagined that maybe, if he was lucky, he could be what she needed.

On a cold winter night, after a long day of fighting bandits and the celebratory lovemaking that followed, Fenris lay awake, admiring his sleeping rogue. As he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, he placed his hand over her heart, feeling the steady beat beneath his fingers. He felt a sense of calm wash over him, like he was right where he was supposed to be. He yawned, his exhaustion suddenly catching up with him. Delicately, he tried to lift Hawke off of him so that he could get out of bed. Hawke whined, curling around his body and holding him tighter, seeking his warmth. He sighed quietly, deciding that he could stay awake for a while longer. He pulled the blankets tight around Hawke, rubbing her naked back and arms, trying to keep her warm. Fenris had to keep shaking himself awake, the pull of sleep becoming too strong to resist. He began drawing letters along her skin with his fingertips, trying to focus on something. Hawke cooed and drew her body even closer to his. Fenris felt his fingertips slow, his eyes falling closed, too heavy to keep open. Between her soft warmth, the gentle sounds of her breathing, and his exhaustion, Fenris could fight off sleep no longer.

It started as it usually did, with the nightmare. Flashes of someone standing over him as they branded his flesh. The figure above him laughed as white-hot pain spread down his body, starting at his chin and burning slowly down to his toes. The pain was unbearable; he tried to speak, to move, but he was paralyzed. Each line drawn into his skin felt like it was being carved with a lightning bolt, sending searing shockwaves to his very bones. Every moment felt like an eternity, and when he thought the agony couldn’t get any worse, another jolt of pain shot through him. He wished he would just die already, anything to stop the scorching flames of misery that devoured him. Finally his throat opened up and he was able to scream.

Suddenly he was awake, drenched in sweat, his brands glowing as the white-hot pain from the nightmare continued to consume him. Blood rushed to his ears, deafening him, and his eyes clenched closed in agony. It was all he could do to keep breathing, his hands fisting the sheets in front of him as he rode through the worst of the pain. It was a few moments before he was calm enough to open his eyes, and he realized he was in Hawke’s bed, with Hawke sitting awake next to him. She stared at him, her eyes full of tears and her lip quivering. 

She whispered, _Fenris?_ A question, soft and heavy at the same time, as if his name would break on her lips. She reached out tentatively to touch him, unsure if it would cause him more pain. He shook his head and pulled away, hearing her choked sob as he closed his eyes again. He felt a strange sensation, like ice water trickling down inside his chest and flowing out through his veins. His pulse began to quicken and his heart felt like it was trying to escape from his body. He gathered up the strength to rise from the bed, mumbling an apology as he quickly dressed and headed for the door.

He was in too much pain to walk back to his mansion, so he resigned himself to the sofa in the library. He sat, shaking, his face buried in his hands, overwhelmed with guilt and shame. His failure to keep his secret hidden had hurt the most important person in his life. Now she was lost to him, scared away by his wounds, his brokenness. _What does magic touch that it doesn’t spoil?_ The pain from his brands began to subside, though the pain in his chest only deepened. He grabbed one of the books he had been reading, or trying to read, some children’s fairy story, and threw it against the wall with a grunt. As he reached for another book he heard footsteps and the clearing of a throat.

Fenris turned to see Hawke enter the room. Without a word she settled next to him on the sofa, cautiously placing a hand on his knee. He turned away, unable to look at her. With her other hand she stroked his hair, her fingers parting the soft white strands before gently cupping his cheek and turning his face back towards her. His green eyes darkened with regret as he gazed into Hawke’s blue ones, red and puffy from crying. Her tears had dried but the look of despair lingered, her features turned downward in wistful sorrow. Finally she spoke, asking if he was still in pain. A slight whimper escaped his throat. He nodded, and she pulled him close to her, holding his head against her chest and lightly kissing his hair, her hands rubbing soothing circles into his back. They stayed like that for a while, Hawke humming softly as her fingers caressed Fenris’ skin.

Eventually she ceased her humming to ask Fenris more questions. _How long has this been happening?_ _How often does it happen? What does it feel like? Is this why you haven’t wanted to sleep with me? Does anyone else know? What can I do to help?_ He had answers for all but the last question. He wanted to tell her there was nothing she could do, but the truth was that he had no idea. He mumbled something about not being sure, though that answer didn’t seem to satisfy Hawke. She moved on to her next question anyway, the hurt apparent in her eyes and her voice when she spoke. _Why didn’t you tell me?_ He tried to tell her that he didn’t want to hurt her or disappoint her, that he didn’t want his flawed, tainted body to ruin their relationship, but the words died on his tongue.

 _Don’t you trust me?_ She asked, holding his face in her hands and searching his eyes for the answer. He blinked, a single tear falling down his cheek, and she leaned up to kiss it, licking the tear from her lips as she pulled away. Fenris stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity before the words came tumbling out. His eyes glistened like grass fields covered in morning dew, impossibly green and deep as he bared his soul to her. _Of course I trust you. I trust you with my life and more. I didn’t want you to find out how damaged I am because it would hurt you--it **has** hurt you. I didn’t want you to worry over me; you have enough troubles to deal with. Or worse, I was afraid you would leave me._

 _You should have told me, love. I could have found some way to help you. I would never leave you, Fenris. You are the most important person in my life. Of course it hurts me to see you in pain, but now that I know, maybe I can take some of that pain away. I don’t think you’re damaged. Your wounds are a part of you, and I care deeply for you, **all** of you._ Hawke looked at him with such affection, such ardent devotion, he couldn’t believe he had ever doubted her. _I’m sorry_. A whisper and a promise. He placed his hands over her own, twining his fingers with hers. He brought one of her hands to his lips, placing gentle kisses along her palm. She smiled when she noticed the red fabric of her favor on his otherwise naked wrist. He had taken the time to put it on even as he ran out of her room in intense pain, removing it from his gauntlet to tie around his bare arm.

Hawke wrapped her arms around Fenris’ neck, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was slow and tender, his arms curled around her waist as they held each other reverently. Time vanished between their lips, and when they finally parted they pressed their foreheads together, breathing each other in. Minutes passed, maybe an hour, before Hawke rose slowly from the sofa, taking Fenris’ hand in hers and pulling him up with her. She led him up the stairs and back into her room, climbing into bed and holding him to her. He rested his head on her chest and curled his body around hers, the same way she usually slept against him. This time she stayed awake, stroking his hair until he succumbed to sleep. She watched him sleep, looking for any signs of discomfort. Just once, he began to whimper, his face contorting in pain. Hawke pressed her lips to his forehead, pulling him closer to her before whispering soothing words into his ear. After a moment, his whimpering ceased, his countenance softening once again into the serenity of peaceful slumber. 

In the morning when he awoke, Fenris found that he was alone. A tray of breakfast and a note were waiting for him on the desk. _Good morning love. I hope you slept well--it seemed like you did. I have to run some errands but I will be back in time for dinner. Please find Orana once you’ve finished breakfast. See you soon. Always, Hawke._ Fenris smiled, though he couldn’t help the sudden sense of foreboding he got from Hawke’s note. He knew she had something up her sleeve, and even her best-laid plans never ended up exactly the way she had hoped. He sighed, figuring there was nothing he could do about it now, and sat down to eat the breakfast she’d left for him.

The day passed by slowly. Hawke had given Orana instructions to keep Fenris busy, but he still managed to get bored and anxious waiting for Hawke to return. She had left several new books for him to look at, and she sent Varric over after lunch to help him practice his penmanship. After scrapping the penmanship lesson for a few games of Wicked Grace, it was early evening and Varric had to leave. With considerable effort, Orana convinced Fenris that he needed to stay sequestered in the library until Hawke came to get him. He complied begrudgingly, his suspicions raised at the secrecy with which Hawke was executing her plans.

After an hour or so, delicious smells began to waft in from the kitchen, making Fenris’ mouth water and stomach grumble. He stood up and walked over to the door, turning the knob and finding that it was locked. He groaned, resting his forehead against the wood. The door suddenly swung open away from him, causing him to fall forward right into Hawke. She laughed, making some joke about how Fenris must have been really excited to see her because he was practically throwing himself at her. He followed her out to the dining room, where two place settings had been arranged with candles and flowers in between them. 

Hawke began bringing various dishes out of the kitchen, all Fenris’ favorite foods. _I gave Orana the night off. Bodahn too. It’s just us tonight._ Fenris couldn’t help but smile when he saw the mischievous, self-satisfied grin on Hawke’s face. She had procured a bottle of Avalia Pamunalis and poured a glass for each of them. _No, you can’t drink it straight from the bottle Fenris._ They spent the next two hours laughing and talking--something they usually never had enough time for. When their stomachs were full and the wine was gone, Hawke got up to clear the table. Fenris tried to help but she sent him to her room, telling him there was something for him on the bed.

When Fenris got upstairs he found a soft black bathrobe on the bed. He shook his head as he undressed, wrapping himself in the thick, comfortable robe. Hawke joined him shortly, leading him into the bath chamber. She drew a bath for Fenris, mixing in some salts and oils he had never seen before. He looked at her warily and she just grinned, motioning for him to get in. He followed her instruction--he knew better than to question her when she got like this. As he slipped into the bath he inhaled the scented steam, herbal and earthy with a hint of spice. Once he was fully seated in the tub, Hawke grabbed a sponge and began bathing him. He frowned, letting out an annoyed growl. _I can bathe myself, Hawke. I am not a child._

Hawke dunked the sponge in the bath water and wrung it out over Fenris’ head. He huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest as his wet hair hung over his face. She laughed and repeated the action, causing him to issue a disgruntled groan. As Hawke began rubbing the sponge over his back, Fenris felt his body relax, his muscles loosening as his thoughts slowed and calmed. _That’s...nice._ He closed his eyes and sunk down lower in the tub, the water soaking into his skin and soothing every inch of him. He barely noticed as Hawke kept bathing him, washing his hair and body with fragrant soaps. It wasn’t until she brought her lips to Fenris’ ear and whispered his name, then ran her tongue along its edge and pulled the tip into her mouth that Fenris was drawn out of his reverie.

Hawke wrapped the bathrobe around Fenris as he stepped out of the tub, using a towel to ruffle his hair. She told him to dry off and that she would be waiting for him in the bedroom, the heat in her voice eliminating any feelings of calmness leftover from the bath. Hawke sauntered out of the room, throwing her tunic off as she went, not looking back. Warmth radiated down Fenris’ body as he watched her hips sway, his body burning with anticipation. He dried off quickly, checking his appearance in the mirror before hurrying over to Hawke’s bedroom. The main torches and chandelier were unlit, the only light coming from a few small candles on the bedside tables. Next to the candles he saw some jars and bottles, all the same color and style as the ones Anders used in his clinic. He was about to ask Hawke about them when she stepped out in front of him dressed in nothing but a thin silk and lace negligee.

She slid the robe from his shoulders and guided him over to the bed, making him lie down on his stomach with his head on one of the pillows. She had changed the sheets, the usual cotton ones replaced with silk. Fenris ran his fingers along the smooth material, the slippery coolness of the fabric rubbing deliciously against his clean skin. He saw Hawke grab one of the jars from the table, opening it and scooping out some cream into her hands. She set the jar down and climbed over Fenris, straddling his hips. She began rubbing the lotion into his back with long, languid strokes, the cream melting into oil with his body heat. Fenris sighed as the oil melted into his skin, a cool tingling sensation branching out across his body through his brands. Hawke continued to massage the lotion all over Fenris’ body--his neck, arms, torso, legs. Hawke gently turned Fenris over onto his back, massaging more lotion over the rest of his body.

Hawke got up to wipe her hands on a towel. She climbed back onto the bed, leaning over Fenris again. _How was it?_ He gasped as he felt, for the first time, the burning pain from the lyrium in his flesh start to subside. Hawke’s features contorted with worry when she saw the wide-eyed look on his face. _Did I hurt you?_ She leaned closer to him, her face hovering inches away from his own. Fenris shook his head. _No. Quite the opposite._ He took one of her hands, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. She let out a sigh, bringing her leg over Fenris’ body to straddle his hips again. She kissed him, slowly, deeply, her hips rocking gently against his as he grew hard beneath her. She brought her lips down to his chin, kissing it before dragging her tongue along the path of his brands. Her tongue followed the white markings, now glowing softly in the dark bedroom.

Fenris sighed deeply as Hawke licked her way down his throat, caressing each illuminated line with her tongue. Her lingual attentions amplified the effect of the lotion, sending shivers down his spine. He felt his cock throb when she ran her tongue over his pulse, her hot breath fanning out over his sensitive ear. Hawke continued her path down his arms and chest, crawling down his body and she licked lower and lower. He moaned when her tongue dipped into the “V” lines between his hips. She licked down each line, drawing tortuously close to his arousal, which stood thick and firm, waiting for her attention. He whined when she avoided his erection entirely, instead following the lines of lyrium down one of his legs, then the other. Finally, she reached the last lines on Fenris’ foot, getting up to drink some water before climbing back onto the bed. 

Hawke hovered over him, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his aching desire. She let out a breath, the warm air gliding across his sensitive skin. _Hawke._ A demand, a warning, a plea. She smirked up at him, then opened her lips into a wide “O”, lowering her mouth over his erection. Fenris exhaled slowly, making small noises in the back of his throat as the slick heat of Hawke’s mouth enveloped him. He sighed as she took him fully into her mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat. She sucked in her cheeks, creating a delicious vacuum around him before slowly releasing, dragging her tongue along the underside of his arousal as she moved up his length. She repeated the motion several more times, Fenris’ sighs getting louder and deeper each time.

Hawke winked at him as she planted wet kisses along his crown, her lips caressing the sensitive skin and causing him to whimper. She wrapped her lips around him again, swirling her tongue along his slit, and he couldn’t help but buck up into her. Fenris looked down at her to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. She paused for a moment, opening her jaw wider but keeping her lips tight around his shaft, then nodded as best she could in her position. He thrust up into her mouth again, slowly, making sure he didn’t gag her when his cock hit her throat. Hawke gave him an encouraging look, swirling her tongue around him, and he thrust harder and faster between her lips. Fenris moaned as she hummed around him, his hands holding her head still as he fucked her hot little mouth.

Hawke watched him take his pleasure from her, her own desire dripping down her thighs as Fenris’ moans grew louder and his thrusts became more desperate. Seeing that he was close, she reached between her legs, swirling two fingers around her swollen clit and down to her folds. She began bobbing her head slightly, meeting Fenris’ thrusts as they became weaker and more erratic. She slipped her fingers into her soaking wet slit, curling them forward and pressing against the spongy, sensitive flesh inside before furiously circling her throbbing nub. She moaned around Fenris as she came, little squirts of her liquid hitting the sheets. That sent him over the edge, and he followed suit, crying out her name as his hot seed shot down her throat. She hollowed her cheeks again, sucking him dry as she swallowed all that he would give her. 

Completely spent, Fenris struggled to catch his breath as he sank down into the mattress. Hawke smiled at him, obviously pleased with herself, and got up to grab one of the potion bottles from the table. She uncorked it and handed it to him, motioning for him to drink. _It’s supposed to help with nightmares_. He sat up and gulped down the cool, sweet potion before sinking back into the pillows. Hawke joined him, wrapping herself around him as she usually did and pulling the soft silk sheets up around them. Before Fenris had a chance to thank her or ask her what all of this was about, he had quickly succumbed to sleep. Hawke laid with her ear over his heart, listening to the soothing, steady beat as if it were the most beautiful music she had ever heard.

Fenris woke the next morning to find Hawke awake next to him, looking down at him expectantly. He sat up, staring at her with knit brows. _How did you sleep?_ It took him a moment to remember all that had happened the night before. He had spent the night in the blackness of blissful, dreamless sleep. _I slept better than I ever have._ Hawke grinned from ear to ear, throwing her arms around him and holding him tight. _As far back as I can remember, I have been in pain from the lyrium in my skin. This is the first time anything--anyone--has ever soothed that pain. Thank you, Hawke._

She pulled back a little, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looked up at him. Tears welled in her eyes and she pressed her lips together to try and hold them back. She took a deep breath. _I would do anything to prevent you from feeling pain. I will do all of that every night if it means you will be able to sleep without pain or nightmares. I love you, Fenris._ He looked at her, eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped. She smiled even as the tears fell down her cheeks. _You didn’t know?_ As much as he had tried to convince himself it wasn’t possible, a small part of him had always known, though he’d pushed it aside, thinking himself unworthy of anyone’s love, especially hers. That thought hadn’t stopped him from developing those feelings for her, though. _I guess I did, somehow. I...I love you too Hawke. You are too good to me._ She pulled his face towards hers and kissed him, all of her feelings pouring out through her lips. He returned the kiss, his hands cupping her cheeks and his thumbs wiping away her tears. She broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his, sniffling slightly. _So will you stay with me?_

He pulled back, looking into her eyes, and nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love ❤️


End file.
